


Pageant

by eveshka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: If I name more, it will give it away
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-13
Updated: 2017-12-13
Packaged: 2019-02-14 04:25:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12999819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eveshka/pseuds/eveshka
Summary: The fight had been grueling and he’d just let Noctis go to his death.He’d stood there, saluted his king and just let.. him..Ignis Scientia, have you taken leave of your senses? You made a promise.Ignis ran.Up the stairs, through the lobby. He did not bother for the elevator; he took to the stairs. He did not run as if his life depended on it.He ran as if Noctis’ life depended on it.





	Pageant

The fight had been grueling and he’d just let Noctis go to his death.

He’d stood there, saluted his king and just let.. him…

_Ignis Scientia, have you taken leave of your senses? You made a promise._

Ignis ran.

Up the stairs, through the lobby. He did not bother for the elevator; he took to the stairs. He did not run as if his life depended on it.

He ran as if Noctis’ life depended on it.

 

Voices behind him fell farther away as he raced up the stairs, a blind man going half by memory and half by determination. He would not lose Noctis. He'd _promised._

Racing against everything, he sped around the stairwell, coming to a breathless stop at the door, then bursting through. Was he on the right level? He didn't know, but he was sure he was. He had to be. It was the only answer he'd accept.

A hand, cold as death, touched his back and he launched himself forwards, calling his king’s name. If Death was involved, Ignis wanted to be between Noctis and that cold hand.

 

Down the hall he sped, heedless of debris and dange; it didn't stop him, and he ignored it.

The doors to the Throne Room never stood a chance.

 

The doors slammed open as Ignis kicked them open. “Noct-!”

From above, and ahead, Ignis heard a gasp. Pain? Shock? He couldn't be sure. 

“Ignis?”

Thirty-two steps to the stairs. Seventeen steps to the landing.  Seventeen to the right, or the left. Ignis chose the right, his hand trailing lightly along the railing as he climbed slowly. Thirteen. Fourteen.

“Ignis, stop.”

He took two more steps, he was almost there.

“Ignis. Stop.”

The only reason he stopped was the tone of Noctis’ voice. “Noct?” He reached out, knowing he was close enough, and a hand grabbed his, pulling him down onto the stairs, a warm body burrowing against him, hands fisted in his jacket. “Noct…”

“Ignis, you can't, I have to do this. I know. I know you'd challenge even the gods…”

“Challenged,” Ignis corrected, pressing his lips into Noctis’ hair. “Challenged once and won. I'd do it again and again. Whatever it takes, Noctis. I made a promise to stand between you and danger, and I will keep my word.“ Ignis’ voice had been a whisper, but as he disentangled himself from his king and rose to his feet, his voice grew louder until he'd shouted the last three words into the darkness.

A figure shimmered in the dimness, glowing blue, growing closer until Ignis realized who it was. But he didn't bow. “Apologies, I appear to be late.”

 _You are right on time._ The voice was familiar, speech patterns similar to his own, though oddly paced, as if each word were carved from ice, and the thawed so he might hear. That deadly cold hand caressed his cheek, moved down his neck and rested above his heart.

“Please…” the voice wasn't his. “Let him be. He does not understand.”

_He understands more than you can know, O King of Kings, for he has stood here before. He has Challenged and bartered, though what he might have left to offer bears some curiosity._

Shiva, then. Ignis decided. The cold he felt grasping for his heart could only be hers. She would find nothing cold within him now, just as before. “I do not offer you anything, cold one, for not even the fires of Ifrit’s eternal love could thaw your heart. What could you know of such devotion?

She hissed, her touch receding, pain lancing through him. He gritted his teeth and pushed through it, stepping forward. “You, who play the games of gods with mortal hands. Condemn one king to eternal suffering, while force another to pay his penance with far too few years at hand. And for what? Power? I've tasted that power and know it's bitterness. To want more is folly, not wisdom.”

The soft sound at his foot sounded like a cough. Ignis paid his king little heed. “I swore an oath to keep Noctis safe. If I must die in so doing, then so be it. But when this is done? You will be forgotten. The scourge isn't made of the Accursed’s hand, it was made by yours.”

 **Enough**. The voice cut through him, the words edged with pointed reminders of power. 

Ignis had heard that voice before. He'd felt that power as it cut through him, burned him and left him in his own darkness. “Shall we spar, Bahamut? I am not the man I was before. Surely a blind man offers you no challenge. Dark versus Light? Winner takes all? You'd like to remind me that you're a god, yes. I remember. Impotent in your prison, and unable to die. Isn't that right, Bahamut? Or should I call you Ardyn?”

“Ignis!” Noctis gasped, pulling against his leg. “What are you saying?”

“You walked this world, like Gentiana, but you weren't content to live. You wanted to be loved, but who would love a man of no consequence? So you made a consequence, created the Scourge , allowed it to fester, and then rose to cure it, to the adoration of all. All, that is except your fellow Hexatheon. And when Ifrit rose against you, you cast him out. Then Shiva turned and you had her struck down.”

Puzzle pieces fit together in his head faster than he could voice them, and he ripped the dark lenses from his face, needing something to release frenetic energy, but being pinned by Noctis at his side. “The rest, they moved as one, forcing you back and locking you away in the Crystal. The only thing you could do was walk the world and play your own game until you could build enough power in the bloodline to grant you your freedom at the cost of his own.”

Silence fell in the throne room, and Ignis narrowed his sightless eye and glared into the darkness. “Tell me I am wrong.”

“Oh, I did so enjoy our cat and mouse, didn’t you? The race through Leide, the dance through Altissia, and even the pageant? Tell me it didn’t dig into your bones and make you feel alive!”

Ignis bared his teeth and turned his head towards the voice. When he spoke, his own words dripped with sarcasm. “And at last, the player sets the stage. Where, pray tell will your exit be?”

“Why, as soon as your dear Noctis throws himself upon the sword, my dear man. Or had you forgotten what brought us here today? A marriage, if you will, of metal and flesh.”

“Over my dead body.”

“That can be arranged.”

Behind Ignis, something shifted, and the cold hand at his back became warm, gentle, fingers threading through his hair, leaving magic swirling in its wake. “Blessed Stars of life and light, deliver us from darkness' blight.” Magic arced through Ignis, and he flinched, blinking, swearing that had been the Oracle’s voice. The snarl in front of him made him look up, old reflex opening his eyes.

A maroon haired figure swam into view, and without thinking, Ignis lunged. Power raced from within, the warm hand still at his back, a source of magic that Ignis willingly drew upon. Light gathered in his hands, spilling between them, growing wilder and brighter and Ignis pushed it at the figure, snarling. “Be gone to your Crystal, Bahamut. This world doesn’t need you fucking it up.”

The light flared brightly, and then darkness fell.

 

Later, after stunned exaltation and a few well-deserved smacks to his shoulder, Ignis would confess that he’d been making it up as he went and he’d only put it together at the very end. Noctis would tell Prompto that Ignis had been the scariest thing in the Throne Room, and Gladio would guffaw loudly and proclaim Ignis the biggest badass in Insomnia.

But Ignis knew the truth. He might have been the biggest badass in Insomnia, but he’d also been the biggest bluffer too. And if his bluff had been called without Lunafreya’s help from beyond?

“You would have managed well enough.”

Ignis turned to see Gentiana standing there beside him, as if she’d been there the entire time. “For one so coldhearted and uninterested in mortals, you do seem fond of us.”

“I learned many things while in service to the Oracles. Perhaps, if I had known then what I know now, I might have made different choices.”

“And now?” Ignis asked, sipping his whiskey.

“Now? All is as it should be. Your king has his throne, and your world is rebuilding.”

“And Bahamut?”

“Finally where he belongs.”

“And what of that Crystal?”

Closed eyes turned from the distance to regard Ignis. “Enjoy your victory, Ignis Scientia. Do not let things beyond your world concern you. Take care of Noctis.”

“Always.”

And then he was alone, watching Noctis as he approached, lifting his glass in a salute, and smiling.


End file.
